


Black Hole RMI

by orphan_account



Series: Parallel [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Biting, Hair Pulling, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 17:59:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1559141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Revision Mark I "Everything is parallel to something else. They're right next to each other and will never know how similar, yet so different they are." The black hole, like the endless abyss of Christophe's room, and like his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Hole RMI

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Alright, let’s do this! (and do it the right way- how the hell did any of you _read_ this trash before?!) Okay so the revision is somewhat more violent and kinda non-con at the beginning because this is all PK writes is that fucked up shit. Christophe’s accent is better and more French is present because three years of French since I wrote this (hell yeah), and there’s also better vocab, slightly better grammar, and not a sea of hysterically spaced of paragraphs like before. I’ve also decided to give each couple a new kink to focus on, so this one is biting and hair pulling.

It was dark, and the animal in its shroud was used to it. He didn’t even have the light of a stoke hanging out of his mouth to see with. His only assistance this time was his ears and familiarity of the room. He had a small pocket knife in his boot, a loaded gun slung over his shoulder that he clung to the strap of, and his other hand clutching a non-brag-worthy shovel. Someone had invaded the basement of his home; his room, his personal space for Christ’s sake! They were rummaging around in the dark, and he took that in terms of them most likely looking for something.

The question was what? Some form of nonexistent weakness? _Okay maybe ze dogs…_ He thought. Weapons to disarm, then kill him with? _Like ‘ell ze bastard would…_ he thought as he plotted ways to counter various attacks. He never even put his gun anywhere but under his pillow yet alone something like took his boots off when he slept, so how the fuck did anyone expect to take him by surprise? Hell, the French boy never took _anything_ off when he slept yet alone at any other time. Even the shower hadn't seen him fully naked! He was nothing short of paranoid and ready for a war at any time. He could blame it on his mother’s disgruntled womb and its war with the hanger that he was involved in that could have caused his self-diagnosed PTSD.

He saw the outline of the figure in the darkness. He watched him grope around in the dark, his eyes not adjusted yet. He felt the air above his bed, then proceeded to trip over the frame with a loud bang. “Ow…!” It hissed, letting his gender be known as male. Christophe raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t a very graceful assassin. If anything, the more he watched this person, the more he doubted he even was one. But he could be trying to trick him… Make him assume he was someone worth turning the lights on for, then strike once he could see his target. …Or maybe he really was but just stupid as shit and clumsy as all hell.

Christophe came up behind the infiltrator, pulling the gun from its sling and holding it to the intruder’s head and putting him in a choke hold as he was bent over in an attempt to rub his potentially bruised leg. "Who are you- Who sent you?" He asked quickly and directly into his ear, not wanting to cause more of a fuss than needed. "Anzwer or die!" He said before the trespasser could reply, yet alone open his mouth. At such a close range, he could smell the shampoo the kid used. It seemed… fancy? A rich kid? Why? Or did he just bathe at his employer’s house before setting out?

"C-Christophe, it's me." The invader choked. "Gregory." He added for emphasis as to who this “me” in particular was. "Gregory?" He repeated, loosening his grip on the gun. That explained the good smell- supposed good smell of course. He dragged him to the light switch by his neck and turned it on to verify his claims. In deeded it was true, so he let go, his “friend” choking on his own air. "What zid you come 'ere for?" He questioned, eyeing him suspiciously. "I… I'm sorry… I, uh…" He choked, still rubbing his throat. "You?" He prompted, in no mood for games, regardless if he had just choked the hell out of him and his pissy companion was still recovering.

Gregory finished recovering, pulling his dignity off of the floor and using it to square his shoulder and face Christophe. "I… I heard some enemy's plans of trying to capture you, so I thought I'd come warn you- although now I’m questioning if it was worth it." The mass of dirt, blood, and flesh scoff at him and pulled out a cigarette. "Let Zem try. Zey will 'ave no 'ead to eat zer own balls wiz." He threatened, poking in Gregory’s direction with his cigarette before lighting it. Gregory sighed, used to his friend’s crude language. _He_ considered them friends- but he was always silently questioning Christophe’s disposition on it.

"They said they're bringing dogs to help find you better." He said, stating the real problem that came with them trying to kill him. "Ze Dogz?" Christophe yelled, practically using Gregory as a shield for his back while he swung his gun around the room although they were already there. The cigarette had almost fallen from his mouth out of shock, but now gripped between his teeth so precariously tight it was a wonder the rest of it hadn’t hit the floor and set everything aflame.

Gregory let his friend panic, watching him for a moment before sitting on the edge of his bed and watching his rear- quite literally. "It's should be alright for now. I've already taken the initiative to locate their headquarters and mess up there dog's sense of smell. It should remain so for quite some time." Christophe relinquished his grip on his gun and cigarette. He sighed, quiet relieved, taking a drag from his cigarette and flicking the ashes onto the floor. He turned to Gregory, giving him a slight smile. "You are a good friend zoo 'ave, you know zat, mon ami?" Gregory smiled from the compliment as well as actually being called not only a friend, but a good one- and then in French to boot!

Christophe sat down on the bed next to him, sighing. “I cannot stand za faking dogs. Ze will be ze death of me, I swear eet. If not, I have done quite well, non?” He said, turning to Gregory, who nodded in agreement. “It winds me up so much zometimez I wonder how it is I evar managé to fak anyzing in za mean taime.” Gregory choked on his own laughter. “You sink zis iz amusant, mon ami?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Wha- no, no.” He waved his hands in front of him and Christophe leaned his cigarette towards his palms. Per normal reaction, Gregory back away, but Christophe kept advancing until he had Gregory lying on the bed and had fully entrenched upon his target, sitting on his hips. “U-Um I’m sorry it won’t happen again. So if you’d ple-“  
“Non, non.” Christophe shushed him and took a long drag on his smoke from the side, looking down at his catch. He blew the smoke into his face, making him cough. “You do non entere my house and expect to get away zo eazy. You freak me za fuq out into zinking you are trying to keel me when you could juste call my name- non?” Gregory nodded, palms still up in defeat. “Zen you take action wizout my consent. What if I ‘ad already known and ‘ad a plan, hm? And you go and fuq my sheet all up? Ah?!” He asked, threatening him with the cigarette again. “…Non, mon ami. For zat, you’ll keep me amuser.”

“A-Am-yous-hair?” Gregory tried, unfamiliar with some his friend’s native tongue. “You will let me fuq za sheet out of you like a little beech.” Gregory doubted that the one small word translated to that- exactly… “B-But I’m a male- same as you. H-How do you even manage to-“  
“You don’ ‘ave to worry about zat. You juste take it like za bitch, oui?”

How had coming to warn his friend of impending death resulted in this? True he had probably fucked up by not calling out his name, but you could never be too cautious with him… But how did that warrant him having sex with Christophe? He could have asked for something else, couldn’t he? "L-Look, I think it best if I went home now- to plan for when they try to raid your house. I-I mean can’t we do this later?"  
Christophe rolled his eyes, his hips already rolling as well. "Well zey are not coming tonight, non? Zere is no need for you to leave zo zoon." Gregory's face was a twisted, defeated mess with a hint of desperation. He was trying to think of something to use to protest against Christophe, but nothing was coming to mind aside from the blunt statement of "I don't want to have sex with you", and that probably wasn't the best option- not with the type of person Christophe was. He’d get shot or something…

“Look, Christophe, if you really want, I can help you pick up a girl or something-" Christophe promptly shut him up by putting his cigarette out on his palm. He writhed and growled in protest, pulling at Christophe’s wrist the moment the burn registered in his brain. “Ah- Christophe, _no_!” He was silenced again by a harsh kiss from chapped lips unlike his well-kept ones. There was a mashing of teeth that caused him to gasp and open his mouth, letting Christophe lap at his teeth. His hand that hadn’t burned him was being used to undo both of their pants between the constant thrusting of his hips. Gregory turned his head from Christophe, who just took to leaving a rough cascade of bite marks down his neck. “Ah- Christophe! Stop! I _refuse_ to be your one-night “amusement”!” He yelled, trying to remove himself from Christophe. 

"Who zaid it had to be a one night zing? And bezides, iz not like I ‘ave not sucked you off before, non?” Gregory’s face heated at the mentioning of an event he requested remain buried. “…I told you never to speak of that.”  
“Well, you talk sheet in moments like zis.” He ran his fingers up Gregory’s shirt, his other quickly tugging at his boxers. “Shall I make your deek weep for me againe?” Gregory tried to kick him, but was meet with resistance and restraint. “I was drunk among other things.”  
“Es not my business what ze circumstazez were- you still came to me when you wanted. Now, ze favour shall be returned.” Gregory groaned and tried to pry himself still from Christophe. “What _favor_! There was no “favor”! I just wanted someone to…” Anyway he would have worded that would have resulted in his foot in his mouth.

“But zere was a favour.” Christophe reminded him dropping down low so quickly Gregory gasped from shock. “You wanted me to pleze you- so I deed. Now, you shall return ze favour.” Christophe knew that simply trying to get his partner to let him just outright fuck him was an atrocious idea. Besides- he liked a begging bitch over anything else. He had already sucked him off once- this time would be easier since he had already learned where Gregory liked to be eaten. He would do this… And make him whine and beg like the bitch he was meant to be. He was still soft when he removed his dick from his pants- of course- but that would soon end. He put the member into his mouth, quickly coating it with saliva while Gregory pulled at his hair to get him to stop.

“I… Ng… I don’t _want_ to return the favor…!” He pulled as hard as he could at Christophe’s hair, wanting his head to come along with it- and for a time or two, it worked. However, Christophe was the biggest resistance leader, so this… This was nothing for him. He used it to his advantage. Gregory would tug at his hair and he would slowly allow his mouth to come off of him, sucking so hard it must have felt like someone was biting him. When he was almost off, every time Gregory would shudder in relief of a false victory and loosen his grip on his hair- that’s when Christophe took all of him into his mouth again. He let out a moan, but attempted to cover it with a growl, using his heels to kick Christophe’s back. It only furthered Christophe to get him to actually moan- after all, he had heard it before. When the game of tug-a-war was sufficient enough to have Gregory’s dick standing in a full salute, Christophe removed himself from it.

“…You know what your problem, ez?” He said, running his fingers up and down his shaft in a languid manner. Gregory kept fussing and writing, wanting Christophe off of him. The question was however, if he managed that, what would he do then with himself like this. Was it better to resign? No. Never. “You zink zis ez a one night stand or worse- faq friendz. I never zaid zat. If you have noticed, mon ami, you are ze only zing I 'ave ever been commit'id to. Eveere." Gregory felt his heart attempt to jump out of his chest and kill him now. No, no, no, the Mole was not about to get all mushy on him- NO! “I mean, do you zink I go aroun’, sakin’ ozere’s deeks just because ze ask me to? Bullsheet.” He ran his tongue up his dick for emphasis, keeping eye contact with him the entire time.

“…You are spécial to me, mon ami... Zat is why I don’ mind suckin you off.” He added casually, attempting to cover his embarrassment at calling Gregory “special”. “…You are ridiculous.” Gregory finally resolved himself to saying to him. “…I just spout bullsheet for you non fille ‘as evar ‘eard me say and you call me ridiculous? Ze faq!” Gregory tried to hold in another laugh by playing it off as a cough. “Oh, non! c'est des conneries! Ne pense pas que je ne peux pas le dire!” He yelled at him, his anger flowing from his mouth into the air and heating it, the assault reaching Gregory’s dick. He shivered, pressing his hips down into the bed to avoid it. Christophe stopped yelling and glanced at Gregory’s dick. “…No, Christophe, please, donnnaaa~aah~!” Christophe gave him a coy smile as he blew hot air onto his dick.

“…Es punishment- for laughing.” Gregory narrowed his eyebrows and pursed his lips. “…Do I have any say in any of… This?” He asked, making a grandeur motion towards Christophe’s location near his dick. “…Depends.” He said, blowing onto him again and licking it afterwards. Gregory tried to keep his toes from curling. He would not give in just yet… “…Will you at least be gentle with me? Just because I let you suck me off doesn’t mean I’ve had sex with someone else in terms of “me taking it” if you will.”

“Oh I will- and non, I do non give a sheet about being gentile with you.” He sneered, Gregory was taken aback. “But… But you just said… All of that _bullshit_!” Christophe rolled his eyes and kicked off his pants, holding Gregory in place as he did so. He would not let his catch escape him. “Es non bullshit. You mistake my affections for being gentil. I am a hard lover and will fuq za sheet out of you so badly you will nevair forget ett. Your body will be engraved wiz me all oveur ett. In turn, feel free to engrave part of you into moi. Zink of ett like battle scars- es a consistant remindeir of ze grand wars you ‘ave been in.”

“But I’m not a damn war, nor conquest!” Gregory protested as Christophe sat on his waist, both of them now bare and their smoldering flesh threatening to meld together at the threat of Christophe’s fingers holding them so close. “…Non. ‘Owevere, I do prefere mon souvenir from ze best moments of my exziztance.” Gregory picked up on the hidden sweet talk and it practically turned him into a wilting flower. Christophe had known only how to be rough with things, so it’s what he would do with him and he’d show Gregory how to enjoy it. “So, you are going to resign yourself to me now, non? Or will zis be difficile?” Gregory squirmed underneath him, still trying to resist but his body had already conceived defeat. It wasn’t like he disliked Christophe… He just… This entire situation to him was…

“…Mon ami, you zink witz ze wrong ‘ead too much.” Christophe tugged at both of their dicks, making Gregory hiss and turn his head to muffle a noise that had escaped him with the bed sheets. Christophe smirked, knowing whether Gregory actually verbally gave in or not, he had won. Gregory had a fistful of the sheets in his hands while Christophe ran his thumb languidly over the tip of their cocks, roughly holding them together. The contradictoriness of it was sure to drive him insane… They sheets were covered in specs of dirt and probably haven't been changed since he was eight. He was probably so paranoid that he washed them himself and didn't even bother to let them dry as he threw them back onto the bed.  
They smelled like him- like Christophe... They smelled like the outside... Like dirt and sweat and blood… He buried his faced sideways into the sheets more as he closed his eyes to concentrate on the smell and the feeling of heat rushing to wherever Christophe touched him. He didn’t want to… But it was what his mind and body had become occupied with. They had become in enchanted with the location of Christophe’s fingers on his body. He didn’t dislike him for this… He just disliked it being forced upon him so suddenly, but… Such is the way that is Christophe.

Christophe leaned forwards and licked at Gregory’s collarbone, biting him and sucking on him so hard he left marks wherever his mouth had been. All the while, his hand never stopped tormenting their dicks with contrasting methods. It had Gregory writhing and twitching, his feet unable to be still, his toes constantly twitching, his heels constantly burring in the bed or Christophe’s back. Christophe had drawn blood from him, and Gregory kept yanking at his hair and smacking him every time he bit him. “That _hurts_!” He hissed at him after he had bit him for the sixth time. Christophe snorted at him and smirked. Obviously- that was the point of it. He roughly squeezed their cocks and watched Gregory practically convulse and have his eyes almost roll back into his head.

He let go of him, dropping down and nibbling at his thighs, his fingers making their way to a different goal. “…If you bite me, I swear to god I’ll kick your head in.” Christophe stopped, his smirk dropping and he deadpanned at Gregory, looking him so directly in the eyes it made him fuss. "First off, zere iz no God ‘ere.” There was a long pause and a tense moment of awkwardness before Gregory realized why. “…And second?” He prompted. “…And second, stop being such a leetle beech.” Christophe spat as quickly as he could before biting the inside of Gregory’s leg so hard he drew blood. Gregory’s instant reaction was to panic and follow through with yanking his hair as hard as he could. “OW! SON OF A-!” Christophe pulled away, licking his lips, a tinge of red on them. “…I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

Christophe leaned back towards him, making Gregory pull at his hair so hard that he probably removed some from his scalp. However, Christophe kept his advance and took to licking him from his asshole to the tip of his dick without shame. This wasn’t what Gregory had been expecting him to do, so he was stunned for a bit, his hips shaking and his voice getting caught in his throat. The animalist game kept on for a while until Christophe took to shoving his tongue into Gregory’s ass. “Ah! S-Shit, Christophe…! Tha… That’s not for…! That’s disgusting…!” His mind fumbled for words aside from “holy” and “god”- he didn’t know why he would even be worried about appeasing Christophe when he had bitten him so many times now. He was sitting on this dirty bed, with a tongue in an even dirtier place, and his pants around his ankles. The entire scenario was… Was…

He pulled at Christophe’s hair again, but as affectionately as you could pull at someone’s hair. He wrapped his fingers in it, kneading Christophe’s scalp while he took to eating out his ass. It was a foreign feeling- an intrusion, but not uncomfortable. He caught himself sighing deeply, pulling Christophe closer when he threatened to leave. But he did leave- getting him to sigh once more, dissatisfied. “What do you zink zis is, eh? You’re not ze only one wanting to get off on zis. Open your mouth, pussy boy.” Gregory was confused, but did as he was told while Christophe removed his pants from him and positioned his dick over his mouth.

Gregory almost instantly choked on him, coughing and having Christophe roll his eyes and remove himself. “Puff your cheeks out.” He order, letting Gregory take him as he liked this time. “I… I don’t think I-“  
“PUFF. Ze cheecks, beech.” Gregory shied into himself, looking at the cock in front of his eyes. It was the same basic set up, but yet it was so different from his own… The color was different, it seemed a bit wider, but his own was longer… He had been so shocked it didn’t register in his head how it had actually tasted… Did they even taste like anything? He had licked his own fingers before for reasons like food or something, but he’d never really concentrated on the actual taste of himself. Did he taste like anything? Was it at least decent considering Christophe had been…? When was the last time he had showered? Wh-

Christophe was getting slightly agitated at the starry eyed look Gregory was giving his dick. He rolled his eyes again and bit the inside of his thigh, getting him to gasp- in which he pressed his dick into his mouth before he could object. There came a muffled rejection, but it only furthered Christophe to keep it there due to the vibrations. 

The only shame to this position was not being able to see Gregory choke on his cock. Still… He licked his naval, nipping at it a bit while using Gregory’s mouth as a fleshlight, not worried about if he could breathe or not. The Brit moaned in protest every time Christophe his the flesh of the back of his throat. His brain had temporarily been put out of commission. When he managed to get it back into its proper setting, Christophe had Gregory’s cock in his mouth balls deep and was kneading them for good measure. Gregory had to mentally lecture himself to keep his head in place for fear he’d lose it again- the small, stifled amounts of oxygen he was receiving though his nose was no help. It smelled like Christophe… He was being eaten alive. A brief thought crossed his mind.

Was it a territorial thing- the dogs and Christophe? They both liked to bite and both were very possessive of things they enjoyed… So was that it? His mind didn’t care to come up with an answer. There was a wet noise and Gregory felt like his jaw had been allowed rest as Christophe removed himself from him. The back of his throat had an odd taste to it, but again, it wasn’t distasteful, it was just odd. He ran his hands through his own hair out of nervous habit, feeling dazed as he sat up. He was still hard… It was like Christophe biting him got him angry and kept him from… From...

Christophe had adjusted himself so he was no between Gregory’s legs. He bit his jaw, forcing him to be yanked out of his own head. “What are you zinking about, eh?” He asked, still biting at him. “Son of a- will you _stop_ trying to bite me like you’re marking your territory?!” He paused, then pulled away, looking pissed. Gregory didn’t back down- he shouldn’t have to! It was his own body he shouldn’t have to-  
Christophe grabbed his ankles and threw them over his shoulders, putting Gregory’s head at an awkward angle. “Ow!” He was quick to shudder as Christophe took to eating his ass again, slipping in a finger as he did so. Between the suddenness of it and the awkward angle his neck was at, Gregory’s protest had gotten literally caught into his throat. He gaged on his own spit and ended up coughing. Christophe snickered through his nose as he kept his tongue in his ass. “…Fuck you.”

“Doing, mon amour.” Gregory was familiar with a few French terms- that was one of them. Words had once again stunned him. “My love”… His head started reeling again about what would happen when this was over- he didn’t have much time to think on it as his ass was deeply being invaded by fingers. He moaned, and nothing wonderfully appealing. It was awkward and sudden and in a falsetto. It made him ridiculously embarrassed to the point where he pressed his hands to his mouth to stop from hearing them again. Christophe watched him do so, but didn’t say anything about it.

Gregory held back the noises that were a threat to his masculinity, the entire situation laughing in his face. Christophe hurt him a bit while stretching his ass, but it was nothing worse than the bites on his thighs- if anything, if he did that while putting another finger inside of him, it distracted him. He found himself relying on the biting to keep his head occupied from his ass. “…Christophe…?” The French brat nipped his thigh. “Oui?” Gregory removed his shaky fingers from his mouth and used them to pull Christophe closer. He pressed their mouths together, licking at his teeth and asking for parley. Christophe obliged in their war, granting him access to his mouth the way he had access to his ass.

The thought was appealing- he was in Christophe’s mouth and Christophe was buried in his ass. The thought made him moan shamelessly- for once. Although, it could have really been because he hadn’t even noticed it he was so engrossed in licking at Christophe’s teeth and the wet intrusion in his ass. Christophe gently closed his teeth on his tongue, making Gregory instantly stiffen, thinking he was going to bite it as hard as he was the rest of him. He didn’t. He was nipping at him like a cat while his fingers pretending to be snakes. Regardless of what animal different parts of him were, he was most definitely an animal… Did that make him into bestiality? Fuck it, who cares?

This went on until Gregory felt he needed air. He pulled away, licking the saliva from his lips, unsure of whose it was. Christophe removed his fingers from him, the feeling leaving him feeling empty deep inside. Christophe kept eye contact as he licked his fingers, making Gregory squirm. “…You are such a beech.” He sneered, making Gregory dig his nails into his shoulder. Christophe looked over at his fingers, most likely considering if Gregory needed them. Not really… But he did prefer him with them, so he’d let it slide for now.

He removed one of Gregory’s legs from his shoulder, keeping the other there to give him the best access to his ass. He grabbed his own cock and poised it at his ass. “Y-You’re not putting that in there, are you?!” Christophe didn’t answer to his ignorance and instead pressed into him, letting his actions speak for him. "…SHEET…! You are a tight beetch. I'm not even all ze way in and it feels like your azz iz trying zoo bite my deek off. Relax. Zat is ze best advice I can give you to make it hurt less." Less. Meaning it _was_ going to hurt. Christophe wasted no time in pushing himself deeper into Gregory, stretching his ass more than his fingers had. Gregory arched his back, his eyes welling up from the intensity of the pain ad heat. If he didn't know any better, he'd say someone had lit his insides on fire- not just his ass. The feeing stretched all the way up to his stomach and made him feel sick.

He looked up at Christophe, his eyes not seeing clearly because of the tears that were clouding his vision. "Relax." Christophe reminded him using his thumb to wipe away a stray tear. Gregory remembered to breathe and nodded, his nerves feeling like they had all been set aflame. The flame was light and calm, but it was enough to burn him and leave a scar. "A…Alright…" He tried his best to breathe, but it felt like someone had put a metal clamp around his ribs. Christophe waited, letting Gregory learn to breathe again, nipping at him to distract him.

When Gregory was relearned in the ways of air, he threaded his fingers through Christophe’s hair. “…I can’t stand you for this.” Christophe chuckled slightly, smirking at him, but to Gregory, it came off more as a smile that was trying to hide itself in another emotion. He yanked him close and licked at his lips, Christophe starting a slow and shallow pace in him to adjust to. Gregory receded from the kiss, choosing to clench his jaw at the intrusion. Christophe took to kiss him over biting him for a while, getting him adjusted to the pace and then making it deeper and slightly quicker until Gregory couldn’t keep his breath in his lungs anymore. 

The blonde moaned in his embarrassing falsetto and writhed underneath him. He was constantly clawing at Christophe's back and yanking his hair, and mumbling "ow" from the biting, but still grinding his hips onto Christophe's so hard they were sure to be bruised. Gregory called his name louder than any wanna-be political speech he had tried to give and repetitively at that. The calloused French brat kept him grounded by keeping his teeth in his neck and fingers yanking his hair that kept his head back. Gregory had sex before, but nothing could compare to this. He wasn’t sure if it was good or bad yet, but he knew it would stay in his head for weeks.

Christophe bit his collar bone so hard he drew blood- and got him to cum. Gregory shuddered, coating their stomachs with himself. He flushed, but Christophe paid it no mind as it practically became an oil slick between them as he kept at him. He came himself not too long to follow, and finally released his jaw from Gregory’s skin, panting and gasping over the carving’s he had left in his body. His stomach and waist hurt, but he was contented with it.

He left his weight to fall onto Gregory, the blonde gasping desperately below him. He rolled over, growling from exhaust. He sat there for a moment before sitting up with a sigh and resting against the wall his bed was (now mostly) pressed against. Gregory, not one to want to lie there, attempted to sit up, but stopped with the swirling of the room. "Do not zit up zo zoon. You are dizzy, non?" Gregory nodded, holding his head. Christophe pulled him onto his shoulder, running his fingers through his hair.

After he regained the ability to breathe, Gregory felt exhausted and left his eyes to start their close. “Christophe…? Before I fall asleep… Can I ask you… What this… This makes us now?” Christophe leaned over him and grabbed a nearby cigarette and lit it up, taking a deep drag from it. “You are my beech- simple. I will not save you like some bullsheet princess, you can do zat on your own. I have confidence zat you weel… But you can do what you like ‘ere when you feel like eet.” It was typical Christophe. He wasn’t one to become too attached to things for fear of them always being stolen from him or used against him, so this was… A lot for him. Gregory leaned over and kissed his neck- then bit the shit out of him.  
“YOU FAQING BEECH!”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・South Park・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

"Alright, so if you enter from entry point A, you can do what you have to do in around fifteen minutes to a half hour and leave form entry point D. This will give you time to-“ Gregory instantly frozen, his eyes putting saucers to shame. “Christophe!" Gregory hissed through clenched teeth to not attract any unneeded or unwanted attention. He was trying to give Christophe a brief overview he had come up with for a plan, and Christophe wasn't paying attention, taking instead to running his hand up Gregory's leg…

They were at school, in lunch, with a splay of papers and maps and layouts and plans. It would seem so casual, so it was the most least likely place for scrutiny. "Yez, I know. I've been liszening. This is zee third time you have repeatzed eet." Gregory sighed. "Then what did I say?" Christophe scratched the back of his head. "If you end up dead because your too busy trying to get into my pants- CHRISTOPHE!" Gregory said kicking him so hard the entire table shook from the force. Christophe had groped his crotch. "I am joking, mon ami. Enter from point A, 'ere, do my zing, leave from 'ere, point Zee." Gregory sighed and sat down. "Good. Now- CHRISTOPHE!"


End file.
